Our Arctic province

by Henry Wood Elliott

The history of this early exploration of Russian America is the stereotyped story of wrongs inflicted upon simple natives by ruthless, fearless adventurers—year in and year out—the eager, persistent examination of the then unknown shores and interior of Alaska by tireless Cossacks and Muscovites, who were busy in robbing the aborigines and quarrelling among themselves. The success of the earliest fur-hunters had been so great, and heralded so loudly in the Russian possessions, that soon every Siberian merchant who had a few thousand rubles at his order managed to associate himself with some others, so that they might together fit out a slovenly craft or two and engage in the same remunerative business. The records show that, prior to the autocratic control of the old Russian American Company over all Alaska in 1799, more than sixty distinct Russian trading companies were organized and plying their vocation in these waters and landings of Alaska.

They all carried on their operations in essentially the same manner: the owner or owners of the shallop, or sloop, or schooner, as it might be, engaged a crew on shares; the cargo of furs brought back by this vessel was invariably divided into two equal subdivisions—one of these always claimed by the owners who had furnished the means, and the other half divided in such a manner as the navigator, the trader, and the crew could agree upon between themselves. Then, after this division had been made, each participant was to give one-tenth part of his portion, as received above, to the Government at St. Petersburg, which, stimulated by such generous swelling of its treasury, never failed to keep an affectionate eye upon its subjects over here, and encouraged them to the utmost limit of exertion.

This Imperial impetus undoubtedly was the spur which caused most of that cruel domination of the Russians over a simple people whom they found at first in possession of their new fur-bearing land; the thrifty traders managed to do their business with an exceedingly small stock of goods, and, where no opposition was offered, these unscrupulous commercial travellers ordered the natives out to hunt and turn over all their booty, not even condescending to pay them, except a few beads or strips of tobacco, “in return for their good behavior and submission to the crown!” Naturally enough, the treacherous Koloshes of Sitka, the dogged Kadiakers, the vivacious Eskimo or Innuits, and even the docile Aleutes, would every now and then arise and slaughter in their rage and despair a whole trading post or ship’s crew of Russians; but these outbreaks were not of preconcerted plan or strength, and never seriously interrupted the iron rule of Slavonian oppression.

The rapidly increasing number of competitors in the fur trade, however, soon began to create a scarcity of the raw material, and then the jealousies and rivalries of the trading companies began in turn to vent themselves in armed struggles against each other for possession and gain. This order of affairs quickly threw the whole region into a reign of anarchy which threatened to destroy the very existence of the Russians themselves. Facing this deplorable condition, one of the leading promoters of the fur-trading industry in Alaska saw that, unless a bold man was placed at the head of the conduct of his business, it would soon be ruined. This man he picked out at Kargopol, Siberia, and on August 18, 1790, he concluded a contract with Alexander Baranov, who sailed that day from the Okotsk, and who finally established that enduring basis of trade and Russian domination in Alaska which held till our purchase in 1867 of all its vested rights and title.

The wild savage life which the Russians led in these early days of their possession of this new land—their bitter personal antagonisms and their brutal orgies—actually beggar description, and seem well-nigh incredible to the trader or traveller who sojourns in Alaska to-day. It is commonly regarded as a rude order of existence up there among ourselves now; and when we come to think back, and contrast the stormy past with the calm present, it is difficult to comprehend it; yet it is not so strange if it be remembered that they were practically beyond all reach of authority, and lived for many consecutive years in absolute non-restraint.

It is easy to trace the several steps and understand the motives which led to our purchase of Alaska. There was no subtle statecraft involved, and no significance implied. The Russian Government simply grew weary of looking after the American territory, which was an element of annually increasing cost to the Imperial treasury, and was a source of anxiety and weakness in all European difficulties. It became apparent to the minds of the governing council at St. Petersburg that Russians could not, or at least, would not settle in Russian America to build up a state or province, or do anything else there which would redound to the national honor and strength. This view they were well grounded in, after the ripe experience of a century’s control and ownership.

One period in that history of Russian rule afforded to the authorities much rosy anticipation. This interval was that season in the affairs of the Russian American Company which was known as Baranov’s administration, in which time the revenues to the crown were rich, and annually increasing. But Baranov was a practical business man, while every one of his successors, although distinguished men in the naval and army circles of the home government, was not. Comment is unnecessary. The change became marked; the revenues rapidly declined, and the conduct of the operations of the company soon became a matter of loss and not of gain to the stockholders and to the Imperial treasury. The history, however, of the rise and fall of this great Russian trading association is a most interesting one; much more so even than that of its ancient though still surviving, but decrepit rival, the Hudson’s Bay Company.

Those murderous factional quarrels of the competing Russian traders throughout Alaska in 1790-98 finally compelled the Emperor Paul to grant, in 1799, much against his will, a charter to a consolidation of the leading companies engaged in American fur-hunting, which was named the Russian American Company. It also embraced the Eastern Siberian and Kamchatkan colonies. That charter gave to this company the exclusive right to all the territory in Alaska, Kamchatka, and the Siberian Okotsk, and Kurile districts, and the privileges conferred by this charter were very great and of the most autocratic nature; but at the same time the company was shrewdly burdened with deftly framed obligations, being compelled to maintain, at its own expense, the new government of the country, a church establishment, a military force, and, at various points in the territory, ample magazines of provisions and stores to be used by the Imperial Government for its naval vessels or land troops whenever ordered. At a time when all such stores had to be transported on land trails over the desolate wastes of Siberia from Russia to the Okotsk, this clause in the franchise was most burdensome, and really fatal to the financial success of the company.

The finesse of the Russian authorities is strikingly manifested in that charter, which ostensibly granted to the Russian American Company all these rights of exclusive jurisdiction to a vast domain without selfishly exacting a single tax for the home treasury; but in fact it did pay an immense sum annually into the royal coffers in this way. The entire fur trade in those days was with China, and all the furs of Alaska were bartered by the Russians with the Mongols for teas, which were sold in Russia and Europe. The records of the Imperial treasury show that the duties paid into it by this company upon these teas often exceeded two millions of silver rubles annually.[4]

The company was also obliged, by the terms of their charter, to make experiments in the establishment of agricultural settlements wherever the soil and climate of Alaska would permit. The natives of Alaska were freed from all taxes in skins or money, but were obliged to furnish to the company’s order certain quotas of sea-otter hunters every season, all men between the ages of eighteen and fifty being liable to this draft, though not more than one-half of any number thus subject could be enlisted and called out at any one time.